


You are everything.

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, after tfp, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:32:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: John and Sherlock have to share a room after the whole mess at Sherlock's childhood home.





	

They couldn’t go back to London tonight. There was just no way they would have been able to make it. The last couple of weeks, or rather months, had really taken a toll on both of them. And with 221B still in shreds after the explosion they had just asked to be taken to a hotel nearby. The lady at the reception told them that they only had one room left that was ready to be used and so they just agreed to share because they were both too tired to start an argument. They’d done it before as well, but that was before everything, before Euros, before Mary.   
They took the elevator in silence, the walked up to the room, John who had taken charge opened the door and they entered without speaking a single world. There was no anger or aggression in that silence but at the same time it said so much that Sherlock had been trying so hard to block out. It said that they were not the same and that it was never going to be the same between them, it told Sherlock that, yes, John did not blame him for Mary’s death but that the night Mary Watson dies would always stand between them. It told Sherlock far more than words ever could have and it hurt so much more.   
The room that should be their’s for the night was tiny, it had nothing more than the tiniest bathroom he had ever seen, a small desk and a single chair and a small double bed. Literally the worst thing that could’ve happened. There was no sofa for him to seek refuge on and escape the closeness that would hurt him oh so much.

“I guess we’ll be sharing then.” John sounded very matter of fact.

Sherlock tried his best not to sigh “I guess so.”

As they did not have any luggage on them Sherlock’s usually incredibly efficient brain was left baffled trying to figure out what exactly he should be wearing to bed. A bed that he was going to share with his very straight best friend whose wife had died protecting Sherlock, who was desperately in love with the man who thought Sherlock wasn’t even capable of that kind of emotion. What. A. Mess. There was no way he was going to get away with wearing his suit. So maybe just the shirt? But even then John might become suspicious. After all why would it bother him, Sherlock Holmes, the man who always claimed that ‘emotional entanglement’ was not even remotely interesting to him, of course excluding any question on sexuality frantically, to sleep in the same bed as his straight best friend, wearing just his underpants. Even the thought of John likely thinking the same thing; them being under the same duvet just wearing their boxers made a good percentage of his blood rush southwards. This night was gonna be really hard for Sherlock. Possibly in every meaning of the word.

“If we don’t get on with it I might just fall asleep right here,” said John who did indeed sound exhausted. As if to underline his words with actions, John took of his shoes and started to further disrobe himself.

When John started to slowly, as if he were already half asleep, unbutton his shirt Sherlock couldn’t take it anymore. He quickly escaped into the bathroom. But he couldn’t be staying there. He had to face John at some point. He took a couple of deep breaths, turned the light off and left the bathroom, still fully dressed, only to find a half naked John in the process of folding his clothes and putting them neatly on the single chair. His hair was ruffled and his eyes were half closed, he looked so beautiful it took Sherlock’s breath away for a second.

“What now? You gonna take your clothes off or what?! Believe it or not I really am tired after almost dying for god knows how long.” He walked of to the bed and got in, leaving the side by the wall for Sherlock. “I’m gonna turn the light off in a minute, if you're not in here by then you are free to spend the night standing there.”

Sherlock blinked, once; twice and then slowly started to take his coat off. John was watching him which resulted in even more of his blood finding its way down south. He removed his shoes and socks.

“You’re awfully quiet, you know that? No clever remarks?”

“I guess I might be a little tired, too.” Sherlock reached for his belt, still watched by John, who just then seemed to be realising what exactly it was that he was watching there and turned to look at the window.

“Who would’ve thought that the great Sherlock Holmes has such a human need as sleep.” He voice dripped in sarcasm, but Sherlock could also hear sadness that he did not know how to judge.

If only sleep was the only human need i was thinking about right now. “As I said: we might all just be human.”

He had taken everything off, except for his shirt and boxers and started to make his way of to the bed.

“You really wanna wear the shirt to bed? What are you gonna wear tomorrow.”

“I just thought- I mean I- Nevermind.” He turned around and quickly unbuttoned this last piece of armour.

When he let the button-down glide off his shoulders he heard John sucking in his breath harshly. IDIOT! he thought to himself. While trying to hide his face from John he’d given him a first class view on his back. John had never seen them. He wasn’t even sure if the doctor knew those scars existed.   
He could hear the sheets move behind him and froze. Then he put the shirt on the desk next to his other things and started to slowly turn around. Suddenly he could feel a hand on his shoulder, his breath got stuck somewhere and all he could feel was John’s hands gliding over his back, barely even a touch more like a whisper. As if Sherlock were fragile.

“How?” no sarcasm, no joke, just deep deep sadness.

He wanted to say something but the words got stuck in his throat. He tried to swallow them down but they wouldn’t move. He tried to clear his throat again but still could only manage a whisper.

“After Moriarty-“

He heard John sob and then he could feel his forehead press against his back, right in-between his shoulder blades.

“I always blamed you. For not contacting me. I thought you were out there continuing to live your life as before, just without me in it. I was so mad at you, for just leaving me behind like that. Like I am nothing. I never even thought about what might have happened to you. I am so sorry, “ John sounded broken when he said those words.

“You are everything, John,” he said as he turned around and cupped John’s face with both of his hands. “You are everything and you need to know that.”

Sherlock pulled every single bit of courage from every cell of his being together and closed the distance between their lips. First they didn’t move at all scared of the other’s reaction, scared of what would happen after this moment was over. Just when Sherlock wanted to back off already trying to think of an excuse why he would kiss his best friend, John started to kiss him back. Almost unnoticeably at first, but then he wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s neck and he couldn’t help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and/ or comments if you enjoyed. Thank you!


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